Gedigte oor oudword

Oumensblomme

Oumensblomme?

In Engeland is dit nou die tyd van affodille en na die kritiek wat Carol Ann Duffy onlangs moes verduur vir haar sokkervers oor David Beckham, wil dit darem voorkom asof sy nou ‘n projek geïnisieer het wat algemene byval vind by die Britse poësieliefhebbers. Volgens ‘n berig op The Guardian se webblad het sy van die mees senior digters in Brittanje genader om gedigte te skryf oor die ouderdom of proses van oudword. Haar bedoeling is om dié gedigte ter viering van Moedersdag volgende maand bekend te stel. Digters wat genooi is om aan dié projek mee te doen, is: Jenny Joseph, Dannie Abse, Peter Porter, Roy Fisher, Elaine Feinstein, Ruth Fainligh, Gillian Clarke, Roger McGough en nog enkele ander.

“I invited the poets here to write, in any way they chose, about ageing”, verduidelik Duffy haar projek. “Our society, I believe, is turning gradually away from its obsession with ‘yoof’ and ‘slebs’. We are beginning to realise that we face, at the very least, an uncertain future, one in which wisdom and experience – and respect – will need to be accorded a more important role. A good place to start is to read and listen to some of our most distinguished poets and, through them, to assert the importance of poetry in our culture. As poet laureate, it is a privilege to say to these poets, on behalf of their readers and the poets who follow on from them, a loud thank you.”

Inderdaad. En bravo! Op The Guardian se webtuiste is daar sommer ‘n hele klomp van hierdie gedigte te lees, waarvan die meeste uiters indrukwekkend is, maar my keuse vir jou leesplesier vanoggend is ‘n gedig van die minder bekende Anthony Thwaite, “Silence”. Dit volg onder aan die Nuuswekker.

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Met slegs drie nuwe plasings sedert gister is dinge maar aan die stillerige kant op die tuisfront vanoggend. By Wisselkaarten het Edwin Fagel ‘n ope brief aan ene “O” geplaas, en Adolph van Coller maak sy toetrede tot Nuwe Stemme aan die hand van ‘n film oor die Simpsons. In die gedigtekamers kan daar ‘n verruklike nuwe vers van Annie Klopper gelees word.

En onthou – die tyd raak min vir ons leserskompetisie vir dié maand. Skryf dus ‘n brief aan Brieweboks en vertel van jou gunsteling gedig oor ‘n skildery of skilder.

Mooi bly.

LE

 

Silence

This silence, with you away –
These silences, day after day –
Silence itself, pure and cold and grey –

Once I welcomed it, heard
Nothing but peace, even a bird
Disturbing it. Without a word

Silence welcomed me, took
Me in friendliness, shook
Melancholy out, thrust a book

Into my hands, so that I read
Hungrily of what lay ahead,
Not thinking of the dead.

                                                Alone,
Silence lies along the bone,
Grey, cold as a stone.

 

© Anthony Thwaite

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